I'm Still Here
by Writer'sInsanity
Summary: "In the end, I managed to figure out what happened, but as soon as I did, I immediately regretted it. It was supposed to be simple, just another scout and report mission, but we all should've known it would've ended differently." "He kept telling himself, kept reminding himself, that he wasn't himself anymore. Grayson disappeared in an explosion, leaving Jason in his place."
1. Prologue

_**If I owned Young Justice, I wouldn't be on fanfiction right**** now...**_

_**Rated for non-graphic character death and a few swear words.  
**_

* * *

Prologue

_Wally POV _

It all happened too fast for it all to register in my mind, even if I am a speedster. In the end, I managed to figure out what happened, but as soon as I did, I immediately regretted it. _No... It's not possible._

It was supposed to be simple, just another scout and report mission, but we all should've known it would've ended differently. All of our so-called "simple" missions did. The only thing was... it was so sudden, no one saw it coming. Not even Rob- well maybe Robin.

(_Something's wrong._

_Yea, why would you think that, Rob?)_

I should've listened, they shouldn't have split up, it was a bad idea from the start. It shouldn't have happened, Robin didn't deserve this. Then again, who did deserve death? The words later, when everything finally made sense (maybe about a day later), rung through my ears.

("He died a hero Wally, a hero in action, which is what he would've wanted."

"But... Rob can't be dead, can he?")

The thugs, the Light, they all just came from nowhere, ya know? I didn't even know his identity yet. I didn't know his past. Or his mom, since Batman was his dad (right?), and if Batman _wasn't _his dad, then who were his parents? And did they approve? I haven't seen his eyes, and where did he go to school, truth is, I didn't know anything about the civilian side of him, so what kind of best friend does that make me... Sorry, going off topic. Anyways, it was just a surprise attack, and it was, well, a surprise. How I got out with only a few scrapes and bruises, while Robin, the more experience and more capable one, didn't even escape with his life. I mean, come on, that kid can beat me in a fight with both hands tied behind his back. He's, what, thirteen, and only human too! I know, it's not possible, that Rob's going to come in the Cave any time now with his creepy laugh and explain to me that it's all just a joke, another prank he pulled. I know that he's a fighter and that, now listen to me, He. Is. Not. Dead. Nope, just out on a mission with Batman, there's nothing wrong with him, and I don't need this, but thanks anyway.

* * *

_Megan POV _

It's my fault, I know. Wally doesn't believe it, but he's beating himself up in frustration right now. Sometimes they all forget that I'm a telepath, that if they don't block their minds from mind, I know exactly what's going on, like now. It...it hurts, Black Canary, all their pain plus mine, it's hard just to still walk around with our heads held high, like it was nothing, because it's not. It's not something that is no big deal, and I don't get how you are all so calm. Robin died, Black Canary! He's gone, he's not going to come back, he's "in a better place"! He was so young... and this isn't Failsafe... this is real.

Sorry, it's just that... I've never dealt with death before, I don't think any of us have, except for Robin. I could feel his pain, hear his screams, almost as if he was right next to me, but he wasn't. The block he had before in his mind, it broke; he tried to protect me from his pain, and I'd do anything if I could repay the favor the one time he needed me, but I wasn't there. No, I was at the docks with Artemis, Aqualad, and Superboy, away from where I should've been, could've been.

He was always there, he taught me about Earth cultures and stayed patient the whole time. Right now, I'm not exactly sure what I'm feeling. Is it regret? Loneliness? Guilt? Grief? His death, I don't know, I think it's changed me, given me a little insight into how cruel the world can be and not just unicorns and rainbows like I thought it was.

* * *

_Conner POV _

Do I know what to say? No, I really don't, and I don't feel like spilling anything to you. But for Robin, I'll do it.

The G-gnomes taught and prepared me for a lot of things, but this? I don't think a thousand years could prepare for the suddenness of it all. Yes, I wish I was there, but even I can't turn back time and prevent this. I'm Superboy, I'm supposed to be invincible. If I'm so invincible, how did he die? The reason we joined this team in the first place is to stop things like this from happening. And yet, we weren't able to do anything when it happened to _us. _Who knew? The group of heroes that keeps everyone safe can't save one of their own, is actually vulnerable. It seems absurd at first, but once you really look at it, we're not that much different from the civilians we protect.

We're not perfect, and you can't expect us to be. No matter what we can do or are capable to achieve, we're not going to live forever, we're not immortal. We aren't the gods you worship in myths. Sure, we've got powers (well, not Artemis or Robin), but we have our weaknesses, and no matter what you believe, we will fall.

Did I really say all that? Wow... I guess they were right about this making everything the tiniest bit easier. Thanks Canary.

* * *

_Artemis POV _

Out of all the questions you could ask me, you choose the cliche "How are you feeling?"

I'll tell you how I'm feeling.

I feel as if I should storm out of this room right now and beat up everyone who hurt him and then slit their throats. And right now, it sounds like a really good idea. Those bastards deserve whatever punishment comes to them for pulling that shit. Seriously-

Don't tell me to calm down! I have every reason to be pissed off. They murdered my little brother. Ugh, fine.

Robin, as I said before, is like the little brother I never had. Reminds me of this kid at my school, name's Dick Grayson, he's a... friend of mine, been extremely friendly since I arrived. But back to Robin. To put it in simple terms, it hurts. I'm sure you've heard this from everyone, but it really, really hurts. Only one who's completely accepted me even though he doesn't know my lineage yet. If he did, I bet he would ditch me at the side of the road like an empty, crumpled soda can, but he was doing a pretty fine job of making me feel comfortable. One thing I'm grateful for, it's that he had no clue about my father, my mom, and Jade, and never will. Not to say that I'm glad he's gone, because I'm not. He's made a bigger impact on all of us than most of you realize.

Now that he's gone, I feel like I don't belong here. Think about it, he was the one that made me feel different, not just only-human, comes-from-a-family-of-assassins, replacement-of-Speedy (oops, I meant Red Arrow, sorry Roy), secretive-and-troubled Artemis. Wally was too busy disliking me, Conner and Megan were making out the entire time, and Kaldur was just too serious. The others weren't around long enough to count. He means a lot to me, making me think that life was okay after all. It's amazing how much a thirteen-year-old could do to change a lot of people, maybe even the world. To the Team, he was more than a teammate, but part of the family. _Our _family.

I'm not ready to move on away from it just yet, none of us are. It's too soon for anything except a proper burial and all that. None of us wanted this, but we got it anyway, and we'll have to accept it. Just give us time, that's all we need (if you could bring him back that's be a big plus). I still think those fuckers should die, though.

* * *

_Kaldur'ahm POV _

I do not think Robin should go forgotten. He was one of the links that held the team together, and without him, it will be harder to manage, but not impossible. To us, he was like the dim ray of light that shone through the murky sea. It is not the failed simulation again, no matter how much I wish it was.

I wanted to pass on the role of leader to him, but how do I do that now? I wanted to give more pressure, a bigger burden, to a child younger than I. What kind of leader would do that?

I have kept many secrets, for that I am not proud and never will be. No one would have suspected me to be son of current Black Manta, which I discovered a month ago. A child so young should not have experienced all that he had, not even a hundred-year-old man should. All I want is for everything to be back to normal, or as normal as allowed for people like us. Is it wrong to want to change history for wants that could drive anyone over the edge?

* * *

_Normal POV _

\Wallace West- in denial, won't admit the truth, probably from shock

M'gann M'orzz- shock and surprise, personality changed, says she feels the Team's pain [literally]

Conner Kent- doesn't want to talk, admits that no one is completely invincible or perfect

Artemis Crock- flared temper, angry [sort of an understatement] at the Light, confesses that Robin means a lot/done a lot

Kaldur'ahm- thinks Robin was an important aspect to team, feels guilt, says he is son of Black Manta/

Black Canary sighed as she looked down at the reports. Like everyone else, the death of the bird had hit her hard. She had known him since he was 8? 9? She could only imagine how Batman was taking the news. Kid Flash reported that they were attacked by the Light and a few thugs. He had made it out, thinking that his best friend was right behind him, only to turn around and see him trapped in the warehouse. Before he could do anything more, the warehouse had exploded from an overlooked bomb, the Light seemingly escaped and unharmed. Robin wasn't thought as... dead until they searched through the rubble, confirming their worst fear. The mission had been reported as not only a complete failure, but a huge blow to both the Team and the League. Basically they all thought the same: if they could bring their little bird back, they would do it in a heartbeat.

* * *

'Where am I? The last time I remember is being rushed at by the Light...' a small but well-built figure sat in the center of the fog, confused and disoriented, gaining consciousness for the first time.

"Dick Grayson," Dick caught sight of a middle-aged man, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. "You are not supposed to be here."

"Who are you? And where is here?" Dick demanded. The middle-aged man chuckled.

"Aren't you full of questions. You can call me Darren, and 'here' is Medius, or better known as Limbo," the newcomer, Darren, said. His chuckle abruptly stopped and was replaced with a frown. "It was not your time yet."

Realization hit Dick like a freight train. "I'm dead aren't I? The Light... and the explosion... Wait... if it wasn't my time, then why am I here?"

"Fate, I guess," Darren shrugged. "The Council told me to give you a choice. Move on, or go back and protect your friends."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Go back, the obvious choice. What's the catch?"

"You will not go back as Dick Grayson, but under another name and appearance. You must not tell your friends."

Biting his lip, the teen nodded. Without him, how would the Team fare? Heck, how was everyone doing now? "Deal."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"What do you mean he's dead?" Roy shouted at a volume that even Black Canary couldn't match. Said hero winced at Roy's new "overprotective big brother" mode.

"Roy..." The ginger had stormed in the room, temper flaring, having heard the news as a rumor and not told personally had definitely angered him. When Black Canary heard the zeta tube power up and announce the name of the newcomer, she had expected as much, and unfortunately, her expectations didn't go unsatisfied.

"Don't 'Roy' me! Answer my question, Dinah! Why wasn't I called?" The archer's fists clenched, nails digging into his skin, drawing blood. It has to be a lie, it has to be a lie... Just give me the straight truth, what really happened that day...

A burst of wind cut in the conversation. "Roy..." the new voice was barely audible, but Roy heard it nonetheless. Roy's face softened the tiniest bit as he faced the speedster.

"Wally?" Wally's eyes were puffy, and tear tracks marred his cheeks. The fall of the bird must have hit him hard, too. His posture was more slouched than it usually was. His once bright green eyes were now clouded with immense emotion. Was it pain, hurt, realization, regret, or guilt? Or was it a combination of them all? Wally sniffed and Roy couldn't help but wonder: What _had_ really happened anyway?

"Don't be mad at Canary, Roy," the younger teen whispered, his voice rising as he spoke. "It was my fault anyway. All my damn fault! Why the hell was I not there? I'm just a useless-" So it was true, just like he hoped it wasn't.

"What? Wally, no, don't go blaming yourself-" Wally raised his hand to stop Roy from continuing to speak his reassurances.

"I was right there, I let him stay behind. I could've helped him, should've gone back, but what do I do? I run out like a coward, abandoning him! Don't you say it's not my fault, 'cause it sure is. You didn't answer you comm, and I couldn't help it, I had to worry, that's what brothers do, why didn't you answer, were you afraid, like I am? Should've, could've, would've died, but didn't! You weren't there either, no one was, dammit! Our fault, and mine! And Rob paid the price for _our _carelessness! Stop denying the truth, admit it, I didn't do my job as his older brother, I didn't protect him, it should've been me, but it wasn't, Rob was just the unlucky one who took my place!" Wally ranted (and not making any sense), those same green eyes trying to blink the uninvited moisture away. Roy gripped Wally's shoulders as Black Canary snuck out of the room, unwilling to interrupt the "bonding" session.

"_No_, Wally, don't you dare say that. One brother gone is enough, the last thing I need is for you to go and get yourself killed, too. Dammit, Wally, we're all in a wreck... You're all I have left, so... just... don't... go..." Roy trailed off, unable to meet Wally's eyes. Wally, too, was looking away. After a few moments of silence, the dam finally broke.

The sound of two friends, no, more than friends, two _older brothers_ mourning filled the room.

* * *

Raquel came through the zeta beam, fearing for the worst. Why else would she be called to the mountain, the caller claiming that it was urgent and couldn't wait? Judging by the hidden emotion hiding under the calm facade, it wasn't Kid Flash or Robin prank-calling her again, trying to waste her time. The computer voiced her arrival, but upon entering, she noticed that if the Team heard the computerized voice, they didn't give any hint of it. She suddenly felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and wishes that it was a prank call after all.

Instead of seeing a group of kids running around and laughing, she spots nothing and hears only silence other than the occasional little whimper or sniff from an area on the other side of the mountain that part doesn't creep her out because the team, liking privacy, begged for soundproof walls for their bedrooms and were probably skulking there now). She wanders aimlessly around the mountain, wondering what the big crisis was.

Superboy's room was locked, and another room with glass walls (reinforced so that they didn't accidentally break the glass) showed Wally and Roy crying their eyes out. That was scary, since when did I-want-to-impress-all-the-girls-they-can't-see-me-being-weak Wally and I'm-so-tough-and-I-don't-need-to-waste-my-time-with-a-bunch-of-immature-kids Roy cry? The gym was filled with grunts and thuds, and she decided she didn't want to interrupt whoever was beating up the punching bags in case they wanted to take out their frustration on a living person.

Raquel made her way through the mountain until she arrived at a place she was familiar with: the pool. She pushed past the doors, determined to get her answers as soon as possible. Kaldur was there, just as she thought, in the direct center of the pool.

"Kaldur!" she called, hoping that she was being loud enough.

The Atlantean finally noticed the girl at the poolside yelling and waving her arms, trying to catch his attention. The way he swam back almost seemed as if he was flying through the air, the way he can slid through the water so effortlessly, she thought. But back to the reason she was here.

"What's wrong?" She had felt something off in the air of the mountain, that something was missing, but it refused to come out of hiding. Was it one of the team members? Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Miss Martian, Artemis, Robin, or Zatanna. Were one of they the cause of all this tension? Kaldur, one that liked to cut the chase and get directly to the point, bluntly told her the news, though instead of a calm, authoritative front, his voice had wavered just a bit, but Raquel heard it all the same.

"Robin is gone." See, she was right, it was one of the four she didn't- wait, back up... exactly what was wrong?

"On a mission with Batman, you mean? Then why are you all so depressed? Doesn't this happen all the time?" she asked, taking a desperate edge on her tone.

This time, their leader faltered. "N-no, not that kind of gone. Robin's d-dead, Raquel..." As the force of the news hit her, she felt the boy support her.

Why couldn't it have been a prank call?

* * *

Zatanna clutched onto her father- _he's not your dad anymore, just stupid ol' Dr. Fate, but right now it doesn't matter, all that matters is him, your best friend- _as they entered through the zeta tubes. God, she hoped it was just a random rumor going around for the sake of gossip, please don't be real, please don't be real, please, just, please... The last thing she needed was another loss...

But then the overwhelming silence engulfed her, and she knew that him, still alive, the chances were slim. Way too slim to hope. But she had to make sure, didn't she, never jump to conclusions, she learned.

So when she entered the training room, she wasn't that surprised to see Artemis beating the crap out of a punching bag. The targets behind her with various pictures of the Light all had an arrow protruding in the dead center, no exceptions. Zatanna decided that there was no good news, Artemis was in a bad mood, but she still had that small light of hope that urged her to go talk with her archer friend.

"What did that punching bag do to get you that pissed?" Artemis jumped, taken by surprise, which was unusual and only made Zatanna more worried. The blond archer stepped back, revealing the torn and battered bag behind her. Artemis placed a hand on the back of her neck, smiling sheepishly. Zatanna noticed that her friend was breathing heavily, indicating that she had been mauling the equipment for quite some time.

"Just trying to train a little more, Zee, never know when it might come in handy," Artemis shrugged, acting all nonchalant. Reading her eyes (one of Zatanna's many talents) proved otherwise, showing the brewing storm of emotions trapped in there and practically begging for escape. Inner turmoil, self-blame, utter hatred, and so many others, but the one that outshone all the others: pure anger, which was what Artemis was channeling out on the training area. Truthfully, she was doing a good job of both controlling it so she didn't attack Zatanna, and at wrecking the place.

Zatanna simply raised an eyebrow. "Oh really now?" Artemis sighed.

"Okay, maybe not. Can't keep anything from you, can I Zee?" _Except maybe your lineage... _Her response was a smirk and a shake of the head. She really didn't want to break it to her... Next to Wally, Zatanna was the closest person to Robin, and vice versa. Wally had taken it bad, and by bad, she meant really, really bad, seriously bad. The poor teen had moved from denial to anger after a couple of days, which wasn't any better at the least. Anger at himself, some directed at the team, but mostly to himself, kid had too much on his shoulders. _Like Robin did... _As much as Artemis didn't like it, the past was the past, and she knew that eventually, they would move on, whether they wanted to or not. _O__r would they? _Because some nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her that maybe, just maybe he was still out there.

But what were the chances of it? They had seen the body, seen the blood and the wounds, Superboy even heard his heart stop. Zatanna took her silence for bad news and her lip started trembling the tiniest bit. "No, no, nononono, it wasn't supposed to be like this, he was supposed to be okay, it was supposed to be a dumb rumor, and he's supposed to be here with us- _all _of us- cackling about some joke Wally made up. Isn't, can't be, all Bats are supposed to be invincible."

It broke Artemis even more to see her best friend like this, in denial like the rest of them were a few days ago. Artemis could only pull Zatanna in a comforting hug as her resolve cracked even further.

* * *

Dick- no, he wasn't Dick Grayson anymore, Dick Grayson had died on the mission with the Light- continued to stare at his reflection in the window. Up until now he had no idea what his "new appearance" actually was. He didn't even look like his previous self anymore.

Well, maybe there were a couple of things similar, and _no, _he wasn't exaggerating.

He pulled out a strand of hair and examined the root, confirming that his hair was now "naturally" red and not dyed, like Wally. Hopefully, he wouldn't be a hopeless flirt (no offense, KF). He had grown considerably taller, but Darren did tell him that he would be older by about a year and three months, which explained it well. Was he really meant to grow that much in a _year, _or was Wally right... that he used to be short for his age, or "vertically challenged", as he defended himself. His build wasn't as visible as it was before, and his skin has a shade tanner. His eyes were no longer the "deep pools of cerulean/sapphire" as Wally would word it (blue was blue, wasn't it?), but teal [1]. Most of the other features, like the face shape and the jawline made up the now-faint resemblance to his deceased parents (I never got to see them, did I? I _died,_ and I didn't even get to talk to them. That sucks). When Darren said his appearance would change, he wasn't kidding.

At least they didn't make him a girl. Now _that _would be a bit too confusing.

He suddenly realized that he had no place to crash, and hadn't eaten anything in the past twenty-four hours. Not only that, but he was pretty sure that he was didn't have any cash. Jacket pockets- nothing much, other then a few pieces of lint. Jeans- not a thing except for two pieces of paper that he knew couldn't be money because, for one thing, they were made of flimsier material.

The first paper was more worn than the other, due to the fact that it had been there longer and had been stuffed down there for quite a while. _'Dick, thanks for saving my ass, I owe you one. Ever need anything, just call me. ~Roy' _That got his mind going, but he remembered Darren's words and the gears had stopped turning as quickly as they started.

The other one was newer and on a finer piece of paper. He had never seen it before, but he could tell who had sent it. _'Dick- I understand if you're confused. So let's get down to the point. You're an orphan that lives on the streets, you know no one, and no one knows you. Just a twelve and a half year old kid trying to live on the streets, you don't have time for friends. You have an unnatural amount of survival and fighting skills, along with facts someone your age is not supposed to know. Your personality is rebellious and you tend to push people away. Good luck, Jason Peter Todd._ _~Darren' _Orphan, again? Living your life on the streets, digging through trash for food, being on the alert in fear of getting jumped on. 'How nice. Thanks, Council," he thought bitterly. 'Glad you're looking out for me so much. Appreciate it.'

He sighed and looked back at the store window and wore his signature smirk. Jason. Not a bad name, he thought.

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry for taking so long...  
**_

_**Meh, wasn't really satisfied with this chapter :/  
**_

_**[1] Some places said blue, some said brown, some said green. Decided to stick with green. Edit: Thx CHiKa-RoXy, changed it. Sticking to the red hair though. :P Again, sorry.  
**_

_**Anyways: Review!  
**_

_**~WI  
**_


	3. Chapter 2

_**Nope, still don't own anything, never will. Unless I get lucky somehow... nope. Not going to happen.  
**_

* * *

_Megan POV _

I place my last batch of cookies into the oven, hoping that this time, they wouldn't burn. They probably would anyway, but my mind wasn't really on the cookies right now.

The team- all members save for one- were at the mountain, doing whatever they wanted to pass the time. Artemis and Wally were arguing over something about macaroni and soda (which didn't make sense at all...), which somehow had erupted from a fight over the television remote. The couch was occupied by Connor, who insisted on staring at static no matter how many times I offered to change the channel, every time refusing. Roy was busy polishing his arrows with a dirty cloth he most likely found lying somewhere on the floor while Zatanna was practicing new spells on anything she could find, especially the walls. Kaldur'ahm and Raquel were having a conversation about something I couldn't quite hear (if my lip-reading is correct, they're discussing a chemistry assignment from Raquel's science teacher). To any normal bystander, things would almost seem normal. Key word being _seem. _I wasn't any normal bystander, not another tourist that would click pictures of the Hall. I could tell when something was off.

Sure, Artemis and Wally fought all the time, trading insults and trying to get the upper hand over the other. This time, their words weren't backed up with the same anger and poison as they had before this whole incident. Sure, Connor always felt like watching "the no signal channel" with a bored look in his eyes. This time, he slouched so far that he was practically laying down on his back, his chin touching his chest. Sure, it was necessary for archers to polish their arrows, I saw Artemis do it all the time. But was it really necessary to do it so slowly, as if you were in a trance? Sure, as good as Zatanna was, there was always room for more practice. Was that lamp supposed to blow up when she used a simple cleaning spell? Kaldur'ahm and Raquel's chat seemed innocent enough. By the tone of their voices, though, their hearts weren't into the subject. And me? I tended to drift off a bit, dreaming, forgetting to use my telekinesis and leaving my cookies to burn- just like now... Hello, Megan! Don't forget the cookies...too late.

I pulled out another ruined batch of burned lumps of cookies out of the oven. Nine in rows of three by three just sit there, waiting for me to do something to them. Nine, eight for a person jolted to reality, one for a person gone. Now that I thought about it, I couldn't bring myself to throw them away like all of the other failed sets. If I did, it felt like throwing away ourselves, our memories.

Why were we so off? You could say that you caught us on a bad day. Two words: Robin's funeral. Closed casket, private, restricted for anyone other than Leaguers, us, and anyone else that knew him personally (hero identity, of course). His civilian name wasn't mentioned, and I didn't learn anything knew about him, other than the fact that his parents were dead and Batman wasn't his real father. Not like getting anything new (speaking of which, we still have no idea who he really is) was important, of course.

None of us wanted to come in terms with all those voices in our heads, telling us everything we thought about his death. That funeral though, it just made it seem official, like he wasn't really gone until then. Just like a big flashing neon sign that screamed "The boy wonder is dead and gone!', which sort of made it look really depressing and cruel. Wasn't that what reality was, not that made-up fantasy we've all been living?

"Uh, M'gann? You know we can hear you, right? Telepathy link and all?" Wally informed me, eyebrow raised and truthfully looking a little creeped out. I flushed red from embarrassment, and nodded, trying not to think about the subject anymore, which was impossible. Right then a robotic voice echoed through the cave announcing a new mission for us, and I can tell it's Red Tornado. Not Batman, who had an emotionless front at the funeral that fooled no one. Everyone could tell he was shaken up from his -son's? ward's?- death. What I'm really wondering is, still reeling from loss, can we pull ourselves together to survive the mission?

* * *

Being a ginger didn't work out for him, so as soon as he had some money, he used it on hair dye.

Not exactly the best idea, but at least he didn't have red hair anymore. Sort of. To tell the truth, he looked like his old self, except for maybe the hair style and the eye color.

And where did he get the money? He might've... pick-pocketed someone? Batman probably wouldn't be amused, but that guy was a billionaire, he had all the money in the world. And besides, the "victim" was another rich guy from Star, Oliver Queen, aka Green Arrow. Not like he would miss a few dollars.

As fun as being on the streets were, he missed his old life. The rush was as fulfilling to his expectations as it used to be, but the part he despised? Definitely being alone. Bruce may have treated him like a five-year-old, and he might've wanted a bit more respect, but at least it showed him that he was wanted. He missed the attention, the appreciation, the feeling of being useful, because although most people chose to either ignore it or not notice, he just had this need to be needed, a want to be wanted. And this new life did nothing to meet it.

Anyway, this "Jason Todd"? He had already grown accustomed to the new settings, the background, everything. He could tell you his life story and experiences as if it were real. As if the memories were implanted into his mind.

Right now, there was nothing to do except wander down the streets. Not exactly the most exciting thing to do. He wanted to do those crazy stunts he did on the trapeze, disappear like the Cheshire cat, leaving only his cackle behind. He wanted his old life back, one with his friends and their completely crazy stunts, like the stupid cinnamon challenge. Nothing was ever boring before, and he would exchange lives in a heartbeat. Walking down the streets? Boring. Was there some sort of stealth test he could do or something?

_Opportunity spotted. _

Parked right by an alley was a new car (a latest model of some type, he wasn't quite the car person so he wouldn't know), its tires completely clean and looking as though they was never used (now why would such a brand-new car be parked somewhere like this?). The car itself, it was fine, sleek and black, lacking scratches on the neat paint job, completely flawless. But really caught his eye were the tires. Never had he seen tires like those, the rims were smoother than any other, and it looked almost like it just came from the dealership. Completely new, never used, that must've cost a boatload of cash. Speaking of cash, imagine how much he could get for those if he could somehow get his hands on those... The League wouldn't have approved, but that was his old life, right? Dick Grayson was dead and gone, and in his place was Jason Todd, one who would do anything to survive. And in this case, survival did not equal stamped approval from the Justice League. He was his own person now. Not a pawn, not a sidekick, not even a partner, no more side dish of being wanted, but at the same time used as an expendable piece on the chess board.

Back to the original topic, though. Stealing the tires and getting them to a secure place took up so much time and was tedious, but it was worth it in the end seeing the stuck-up billionaire's shocked look and hearing the dying seal noises. Precious. If only he caught it on camera, which, sadly, he had none. Another perk of being a ward of a rich playboy.

He disappeared into the shadows, leaving only his cackle behind.

* * *

_Roy POV_

We were given a mission by Red Tornado, something about a drug cartel. He swore it was nothing big, not like Kobra or Bane or anything. Usually I would protest, but today, I just didn't have the heart to do it. Truthfully, we just weren't ready for something big yet, not after the shock of loss.

I have felt grief before, my father, Brave Bow, but nothing compared to this. Dick- Robin was my little brother. He still was after I threw the hat down. The weight of guilt, it was heavy. I neglected him, left him with the Team, went to do my own thing and acted like I didn't give a shit about him. I trusted Wally, but... I guess he just wasn't enough. Nothing against him, though.

So we're at the docks (cliche much?), but it's not a drug cartel like I thought I heard: it was a hostage situation. Ten pre-teen to teen boys and girls. We immediately set to work, knocking out the thugs, untying the kids, that sort of stuff. We were all still out of it- but that didn't mean we couldn't handle something as simple and easy as this. A damn seven-year-old could do it.

But then I set to work untying another kid, and it strikes me on how much he looks like Dick. Blue eyes, black hair, a complete shorty, even for a thirteen-year-old. A splitting image, only his skin isn't marked with as many scars. I let him go anyway, and it looks like we're almost done (hey, I'm sorry I suck at narrating stories! Get off of my case, Ollie and Dinah were bad enough).

We're all walking to a nearby zeta tube, because the mission was "close enough not to use the bioship". There's this teenager, maybe fourteen and well-built, backed against the alley wall by a gang with sadistic smiles and knives in the hands. Instincts kicking in, I knock the boy down and beat up the gang, surrounding them in foam and probably knocking a few out. Done and satisfied with my work, I turn around to help the kid up, only to see him getting up himself and dusting off his jeans. I get a good look at him this time. Teal eyes and hair that seemed to be dyed black in a rush (really messily done, if you ask me). He's a good few inches shorter than me and probably hasn't been eating in a while. I almost feel pity, but this was a street rat. Stole, hanging around a bad crowd, anything to survive. Turning to me, he snarls.

"What the hell was that?" I'm kind of taken aback by his attitude, but it fades into disbelief and anger.

"Just saved your sorry ass, kid, be thankful!" Instead of the reaction I expected, he just huffs and turns away.

I can barely make out his words: "I don't need saving, Arrowhead."

Just who is this kid and who does he think he is?

* * *

_**Didn't like the ending really much.**_

_**A/N: I'm such a terrible writer. I tend to dive headfirst into things without planning it out. This story, included. So... um... if you could give suggestions on what could happen, that'd be great (ugh, WI, where's your word choice?) Thanks!  
**_

_**Review, maybe? Constructive criticism and suggestions on plot appreciated, flames... eh, don't really care. Helps to see what you think of this.  
**_

_**-WI  
**_


	4. Chapter 3

_**I don't own Young Justice...**_

* * *

Jason sighed, running a hand through his dark locks. He really didn't want to snap at Roy, but truthfully, he really didn't have a choice. Well, maybe he did have a choice, but Darren said...

_Since when do you follow orders?_

Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true. He'd reveal himself in a heartbeat, but the Bat just had to ruin everything. He didn't grace him with his presence, but in his previous life, he was more than happy to. The dark knight's training caused him to be more paranoid, more cautious. He once let down his guard and it almost got him killed. And that wasn't counting the time he revealed his identity to Roy and Wally, the two that he trusted with anything.

The point was that Jason was worried and more careful. After all, he died not too long ago. How would they react? Would they freak? And then there was this slim possibility that they didn't miss him, that he didn't make the slightest dent in their lives. He had thought of them as his second family, a dysfunctional one, but a family all the same, and he couldn't handle the loss of another family.

He kept telling himself, kept reminding himself, that he wasn't _himself _anymore. Grayson disappeared in an explosion, leaving Jason in his place, the voice repeated, over and over again, in his head. He was getting sick of it, pleading for it to stop, but much like a broken record, it didn't, it wouldn't, and it seemed to like annoying him.

It didn't seem like he was important to them, he even visited Bruce and the team, which concluded his suspicions. Bruce had a kid, another kid, a replacement to make it be like he never existed. Maybe he should have never died for them, just let the Light rush out and ambush his "friends" and try to save his own skin in the process. If they had cared...

Then there was the new kid. His replacement. Bruce had taken in a kid named Timothy Drake, or just Tim, who claimed to have found out their identities by close observation skills and research.

Right, that would happen by the time Joker became sane and started working at Red Robin. Which was to say, never.

He still remembered Drake from his circus days. Drake was literally a fanboy of his previous self. It was almost amusing to watch. But the past was the past, the past was something completely different. The past was the time he was a performer, living with his parents and a "happily ever after" could be seen. The past was the time he had friends and a caring guardian that looked out for him. The past was when he was either Robin or Dick Grayson. The past wasn't now, nothing like now.

He found himself roaming down the empty streets lit only by the streetlights, night already fallen. This time, however, he was too engulfed in his thoughts to complain about being bored and stealing car parts. He almost missed the shadow that had leaped over the gap between the two buildings over him, but the Bat's training kicked in. Batman wasn't as lean and short as the figure, and he was pretty sure the new Robin didn't have a big puffy ponytail trailing behind him. And neither of them would've used the bow and arrows as their weapons (they seemed more content at throwing stuff at villains).

Jason smirked. Of course, Artemis sneaked out to patrol Gotham on her own again. This girl was impressive. Persistent, determined, stubborn- in a good way, the type of person who doesn't sit back in their safe-house and watch the world burn...she earned her title as a vigilante, a hero- nothing like her family. He didn't see what she was so worried about, surely the others would accept her after proving herself over and over.

He unconsciously shook his head. He always had a special bond with the archer, an _afriendship_, as both of them preferred to call it, as she was the archer friend and he was the acrobat friend. They could understand each other, more than Wally or Zatanna did, because they were human. Just human, not a meta, or an alien, or of a different type, merely human. They both relied on their weapons and fighting skills, no powers coming with the hero package, and they both had... daddy problems. Kind of obvious when one of his was dead, the other Batman, and hers Sportsmaster. They had their own word, traught, like anyone he was close to. And even though she didn't know that Robin was the annoying little freshman who ran up to her on the first day of school and snapped a picture, claiming they would "laugh about this someday", she was like the older sister he never had, and him, the younger brother. The Reds, they only brought them closer than most friends. Afriendship- the only type of relationship that can rival bromance and be platonic at the same time.

In his trance, he accidentally bumped into a trash can, making a clanging noise that sounded like an explosion to his ears. He winced as the female vigilante was instantly on her guard and appeared in the alleyway, arrow already set on the string. His hood was down, and he was standing in the only lit area of the dark alley. _Crap._

Artemis lowered her bow slowly, arrow still on the string. A flicker of familiarity sparked in her eyes. Had she recognized him?

"Dick?" she said slowly, taking a cautious step forward. "What are you doing on the streets?"

Oh. _Oh. _She didn't see the boy wonder, she saw the playboy's ward. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't washed in quite a while, and hair was unintentionally slicked back. According to Bruce Wayne, Dick wasn't dead, he was just living up to his name and ran away for no apparent reason (yeah, he read the newspaper).

"Um... hey, Goddess," he replies uncomfortably, using the nickname he chose for her at school because of her name. By this time, she's relaxed, because only he would call her that, no one else, partly because no one knew. She's not startled that he knows who she is, because in a moment of weakness, she let her secret slip, though Jason/Dick wasn't that careless. Artemis still has her head tilted ever so slightly, a habit of hers when she doesn't get her question answered or is left hanging.

"Haven't you seen the news? Apparently Bruce says I've ran away 'cause I was being a dick. More like the other way around," he continued, bitterness laced in his voice, though for another reason.

"Gosh, Dick. Sorry, I don't tend to catch up with the news, the news tends to catch up with me. Y'know..." Jason shrugged as the blond archer trailed off. If Artemis hadn't seen the news lately, she probably never heard of the new kid...

"Need a place to crash? Mom's sleeping, as long as you don't make any noise." Despite the "don't let anyone know you're alive" rule, he nodded gratefully.

* * *

"Nice place," he commented, despite being at her apartment plenty of times before. It was much tidier and repainted to have a blue stripe going along the bottom part of the wall and green on the top.

"Thanks?" Her nose wrinkles. "You should take a shower, being stuck on the streets for that long. You really reek. Bathroom's down the hall, first door on the right." He goes without complaint or protest, because truthfully, he does feel sort of dirty and cleaning up is one of the first thing on his list.

After a refreshing wash, he dried himself with a towel and redress as quickly as possible with the clean clothes Artemis set out for me (she had a surprisingly good taste of clothes that tended to shrink in the washer). He found Artemis leaning against her pillows, a plate with a slice of pizza sitting on the stand beside the bed.

Jason rushed to a speed that matched Kid Flash's and took a bite out of the stale pizza.

"Not bad," he nodded thoughtfully, his mouth full. Artemis raised an eyebrow at him.

"Not bad? I'd think you would've had better than stale pizza, living in the luxury you had."

"This is heaven compared to the things I found while rooting through the trash cans. That was disgusting," he recalled, making a face. He was met with an understanding look. Of course. Her father would've put her up to something like that, it was just in his character, he thought in disgust.

The silence that followed unnerved them, so Artemis made an attempt for casual conversation. "So, Dick-"

"Jason." Her calm and emotionless look was replaced with one of confusion and surprise. She tried to make a noise of bewilderment, but sipping a soda, it came out to be more of a weird slurping sound.

"What?"

"It's Jason now. Dick Grayson is history." Her face morphed into half-"I get it" and half-"Let's just pretend I get it". "Just don't tell anyone that you saw me, as Dick or Jason." Their stiff and uptight tones transformed into more relaxed ones, as Artemis spilled everything that was happening in the hero life- because if there was one civilian she could trust, it was Dick. Or rather, Jason. Voices were hushed and kept to minimal volume as to assure that her mom wouldn't wake up in the room beside hers. By the time their conversation was over, an abandoned plate and the pizza crust was left on the floor beside the bed and the soda can sat crushed in the corner.

"Well... I guess I'll see you." The girl watched as he made his way onto the fire escape, prepared to climb down the ladders to the empty area below.

Once she shut the curtains, however, he instead flipped off the railing and dived down to the rapidly-coming pavement, landing on his feet at the last second. If you could fall, what was point in climbing? Falling with style was way more asterous and climbing was just too nique... and besides, old habits were hard to break.

* * *

_Zatanna POV _

Artemis seemed to be acting strange lately.

Don't get me wrong, we were all acting strange because it was common knowledge that people acted differently after tragedy. An example would be Boy Wonderful and ... Dr. Fate (stupid jerk, don't think about him). But Artemis acted as if she had a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. And that was definitely out-of-place in this atmosphere. The smile on her face was less strained and more soft, and her eyes no longer contained the guilty air that came with a burden. There was still the haunted mist in there, floating around, but it was certainly faded into the background like an old scab.

What made it even more strange was the fact that Artemis was the second-closest person to the bird brain, after Wally and tied with, if not exceeding, me. Even Raq was still coping, and out of all of us, she knew him the least. So how come 'Mis is relieved of the pain and is able to sink down on the couch with a normal sigh of letting air out, unlike the rest of us? I swear, I was just curious, not jealous.

"Hey," I say, trying to be nonchalant. Artemis looks up from her book (she NEVER read, there had to be something going on), some random classic whose title I don't bother memorizing, Jean's Eye or something ridiculous like that.

"Oh, what's up Zee?" she replies with a neutral tone, but a joking, almost mocking, glint in her eyes. Then again, it was probably my imagination and her amazing talent to see past facades.

"Oh, the sky," I (tried to) copied her tone, rolling my eyes heavenward, "How's it on your end?" Even Wally could have decoded the underlying meaning of the simple question.

Artemis reclined into the soft cushions. "Let's just say I'm lucky to have such great friends," she sighed, smiling at me. "It really helps, to have someone there that understands you and will listen to you whine about your troubles when no one else gives a shit."

I was just opening my mouth when the zeta-beam cut whatever I was about to say.

_Recognized Batman 02_

_Recognized Robin B20_

Out stepped Batman and a boy donning the Robin costume. He could pass as the one we all knew and loved from a distance, but a close look at him shows that he looks different: almost taller, younger, and the uniform had a couple of tweaks. In addition to that, the zeta-tube number that was given was obviously different. Question was, who was this new boy, this next Robin to live up to the previous' legacy, this person that we were about to meet and find out who he was?

* * *

_**A/N: To all my readers, there will be no obvious pairings in this. If you want to, just imagine that your OTP is there or something. There may be a couple of hints and you could maybe see a bit if you lean the computer screen way back, tilt your head, and squint, but for now, everything is platonic.**_

_**Ugh, this chapter seemed so rushed. Not planned out... I'm so sorry for taking so long and then giving you this crappy chapter. Forgive me :(**_

_**Review: Constructive criticism, suggestions, and flames (though not preferred) all welcome!**_

_**~WI**_


End file.
